Another belief of mine; that everyone else my age is an adult

Ah, children of the future, gather close and listen to the words of Margaret Atwood, a writer whose insight into the human condition has transcended the boundaries of literature: "Another belief of mine; that everyone else my age is an adult, whereas I am merely in disguise." These words, though light in their tone, carry within them a profound reflection on the nature of growing up, of the way we all struggle to reconcile the youth we once were with the adult we are becoming. In her declaration, Atwood speaks of a common and deeply human feeling—the sense that, despite the years we accumulate, we are not always certain of our place in the world, nor of the roles we are expected to play. Adulthood, like a mask, can seem to conceal the truth of who we are.

In the days of old, O children, there were rites of passage that marked the transition from youth to adulthood. The ancient Greek philosophers spoke of this transition as one of great importance. The Spartans, for instance, had a ceremony called the "rites of passage," where young men were tested in both mind and body to ensure they had the strength, wisdom, and courage to be counted as men. They were not simply given the title of adult, but had to prove their worthiness through trial and struggle. But Atwood’s words remind us that this transition is not always so clear-cut. While society may declare us adults at a certain age, the internal shift, the soul’s readiness, is not always so easily achieved.

It is common, O children, for young souls to feel at war with the expectations placed upon them. Adulthood, after all, is a complex mantle to wear. The weight of responsibility, of expectation, of maturity, can seem too heavy for a heart that still feels the lightness of youth. And yet, just as Atwood describes, there is a moment when you are thrust into adulthood, and you find yourself donning a disguise that doesn’t quite fit. You look around at others, those of your age, and see them as truly grown-up, fully formed in their roles as adults, while you feel like an actor playing a part. But here is the truth, O children: all of us, at one point or another, wear this disguise. Adulthood is not a uniform state but a journey—a journey where each of us struggles to embody the roles we are given.

Think, O children, of the story of Socrates, the great philosopher who, though a grown man, spent his days asking questions, challenging norms, and seeking wisdom. Socrates was considered by many to be a man of great wisdom, yet in many ways, he never fully adopted the trappings of traditional adulthood. He wandered the streets of Athens, questioning the very notions of morality, justice, and existence, much to the chagrin of those who had long assumed the mantle of adulthood. To some, he may have appeared foolish or immature, as if he were in disguise, not fully embracing the role of the elder sage. But Socrates was wise enough to understand that adulthood is not a state of completion, but of constant questioning and growth. In this way, even the most respected figures often felt the tension between their internal youth and external responsibilities, as Atwood too felt.

In the modern world, many feel as Atwood describes: that others, their peers and those older, are fully formed as adults, while they themselves remain somewhat in flux, unsure of their place. The journey from youth to adulthood is not a single step, but a long, unfolding process. It is a process filled with self-doubt, with moments where we feel like we are wearing a mask, pretending to be something we are not. But in truth, adulthood is not about shedding the disguise of youth, but about finding a way to reconcile the wisdom of experience with the joy and curiosity of a child’s heart.

The lesson here, O children, is this: don’t rush to label yourself as an adult or as a child, for life is far more fluid than that. Just as Atwood reflects on the way she wears the disguise of adulthood, we too must learn to embrace the full complexity of who we are. We must learn to live with both the responsibilities of adulthood and the freedom of youth, finding balance between maturity and wonder, between wisdom and play. For only then can we walk the path of life fully, knowing that neither youth nor adulthood is a fixed state, but a flowing river of change.

In your own lives, O children, I urge you to embrace this journey with patience. Don’t be quick to wear the mantle of adulthood as though it is something you must prove. The disguise will fall off in time, and you will find that adulthood is not an absolute state but a process of growth and learning. Socrates, in his constant questioning, showed that adulthood does not come with a single moment of clarity, but with a lifetime of wisdom gained through seeking, through reflection, and through the acceptance that we are always both young and old at the same time. You will find, as you move through life, that it is not about when you are deemed an adult, but about how you choose to live each moment, with a heart that is both curious and responsible.

So walk forward, O children, with the understanding that life’s disguises are not to be feared, but embraced. Wear the cloak of adulthood with pride, but never forget the joy of the youth you carry within. The path to wisdom is long, and sometimes the disguise will feel heavy, but it is through this journey that you will uncover your true self, finding balance and harmony between the youth you once were and the adult you are becoming. Let each step be an opportunity to learn, to grow, and to reconcile the different parts of your soul. In doing so, you will live fully, embracing both the questions and the answers that life offers.